


Little Royalty Adventures

by BigBadLittleRed



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fix-it fic, Fluff, Little Q, M/M, Margo is still the high king, Non-Sexual Age Play, Post Season 3 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 21:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14481864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBadLittleRed/pseuds/BigBadLittleRed
Summary: After finishing the quest and returning magic, Margo, Eliot, and Quentin all return to Whitespire. After a while, it becomes obvious that Quentin needs a little more than magic and Fillory.





	Little Royalty Adventures

**Author's Note:**

> ( Shout out to my friend who gave me the courage to actually post this because life is short so who cares. This is a non-sexual fic, it's just going to be a lot of fluff basically. )

Eliot and Margo are stunned into silence as Quentin’s footsteps recede from the throne room, having just blown up on them for nothing more than a mild disagreement. He had been extremely touchy lately, more so than usual at least. Their uptight little Q had been moodier than ever with an extra sprinkle of bitch on top ever since they had finished their quest. They had survived, were back to Fillory, and yet Quentin hadn’t lost the tension in his shoulders or the stress in his tone.

 

“Why does it feel like every time we talk to him, he’s got an ass full of cactus?” Margo asks after Quentin has disappeared, Eliot sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

“I don’t know, but he’s giving me second-hand stress.” He mutters under his breath, wishing for a nice bottle of champagne right about now.

 

“He’s been like this since…” Margo’s voice trails off, Eliot nods.

 

“Since we got back from Blackspire,” He finishes for her, she sinks down into a chair at the table, he follows her. They’re quiet for a moment, just thinking it seems, and then Margo looks over at him cautiously.

 

“Have you seen… Our little friend lately?” She asks, Eliot quirks an eyebrow at her and she sighs, giving him a look. “You know, the baby.” She says softly, Eliot hums under his breath and shakes his head.

 

“No, not since before the quest. All the stuff is back at Brakebills.” He explains, Margo reaches up and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear.

 

“I can have some things brought to your room,” She offers, Eliot smirks.

 

“What will the servants think?” He asks with amusement, Margo snorts.

 

“Must be another weird Earth thing,” She says with a wave of her hand, Eliot laughs quietly. “I miss him, and I especially miss our sweet little book nerd that doesn’t throw a hissy fit over everything.” She rolls her eyes, standing up.

 

“He just needs some down time, I’m sure playtime and a nap will have him back to the adorable little super nerd we love.” He reaches across the table and gives her hand a pat, then when she turns her own over, a gentle squeeze.

 

-

 

It takes about a day to accumulate some things for their plan. After some weird looks from the servants bringing in stuff and even an almost embarrassed silence from Josh when he returned with Eliot’s requested items from Brakebills, he decides he’s ready.

 

Quentin hadn’t seen any of the things he’d gathered. Eliot had been extra careful to make sure the younger king couldn’t make a getaway or somehow find something to distract both him and Margo. He keeps it away from Fen as well, mostly because he’s not ready for that strange conversation. This was something between him, Quentin, and Margo. Not that he was ashamed of it of course, it was just that Quentin was rather sensitive and shy.

 

Eliot decides, since it’s been a while since his friend has taken the time to relax in the way he so desperately needed, that it might take some time. He has a servant fetch Quentin, and then makes himself comfortable on his bed until his arrival. He smirks when there’s a knock at his door, Quentin slipping inside when he voices his permission to come in, shutting the door behind him.

 

“Did you need somethi-" Quentin’s voice trails off at the sight of the things scattered about the room, his face starting to pink. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?” He asks, leaning back against the door.

 

“I have my ways, you’ve been a bitch lately and Margo and I are tired of it.” Eliot slides his legs off the edge of the bed, Quentin looks down at the floor and his face turns a darker color. “You could have asked you know.” He says quietly.

 

“Everyone’s busy, _I’m_ busy.” He insists, Eliot clicks his tongue with disapproval and Quentin sighs. “I thought maybe here, I wouldn’t need it. I’m living in Castle Whitespire, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” He says quietly, twisting his hands in the hem of his shirt.

 

“Why can’t you have both?” Eliot asks, Quentin makes a face and shuffles forward slowly, Eliot pulls him between his legs and hugs around his middle.

 

“You don’t mind?” He mumbles, Eliot smirks against his shirt.

 

“As much as we love our super nerd, we miss our cute little boy.” He assures, Quentin chuckles quietly. “So what do you say?” He asks, leaning back and propping his chin on Quentin’s stomach to look up at him.

 

“It’s been a while, might not work yet.” He warns, Eliot gives him a look.

 

“Just try, okay?” He urges, Quentin hesitates only briefly before nodding his agreement.

 

Eliot decides that the first thing they should do is get Quentin into his comfortable play clothes, because that always seemed to help him regress. Quentin blushes the entire time he’s being dressed, Eliot helping him put on his galaxy covered onesie and zipping it up in the back. Quentin decides he wants to color, so they sit on the floor and make use of the crayons and coloring books Eliot had Josh fetch from Earth.

 

Quentin is quiet, Eliot doesn’t pry, sometimes he just needed time to get into the right headspace. And if he didn’t, this could just be some relaxing time between the two of them. Quentin always did seem more at ease with Eliot, and he was hoping that just some alone time would help relax him.

 

He looked so cute, laying on his stomach with his head tilted onto one of his arms, the other arm stretched out coloring a page with a lion on it. Quentin was rather meticulous about his colors, but even as an adult he was pretty shit at staying in the lines. He occasionally lifted his legs in the air, swishing them around and then returning them to the floor, Eliot was filled with a warmth for the young man every time he took the time to just look at him.

 

“Q, baby, are you tired?” He asks quietly when the younger yawns, Quentin hums softly as he colors, barely glancing over at Eliot.

 

“No,” He scribbles a little harder on his paper, Eliot smiles.

 

“Come on, you can sleep with papa.” He offers, standing up and putting his coloring book on the desk before sitting down on the bed. Quentin huffs and sits up, pushing his coloring book and the crayons out of the way before climbing up onto the bed. “Good boy,” He pulls Quentin over him and onto the other side of the bed, pulling the blankets up over them.

 

Quentin scoots closer to him, resting his head on Eliot’s shoulder and cuddling up to his side with a questioning look. Eliot wraps an arm around him without pause, pressing a kiss to his forehead and placing his hand over the arm over his waist, rubbing gently.

 

“I missed naptime with my baby boy too,” He admits, Quentin smiles shyly.

 

“Papa?” Eliot holds his breath, had been waiting to hear that moniker for the past two hours. He wasn't completely regressed, but he was getting there, and trying to go with the flow was something Eliot felt proud of him for.

 

“Yes, love?” He presses another kiss to Quentin’s head, noting the greasiness of his hair, he’d need a bath later.

 

“Story?” He whispers, Eliot smirks.

 

“You want a story, okay…” He moves his hand to squeeze Quentin’s shoulder, sighing. “How about the prince of Fillory, ever heard of that one?”  He asks with a small smile, Quentin shakes his head. “Well there once was a boy named… Quinn.” He decides, Quentin lets out a soft giggle.

 

“Like Quentin?” He questions, Eliot shakes his head.

 

“Of course not, Quentin and Quinn are completely different names and you are two completely different boys. Quinn is short and has long brown hair and brown eyes, you are small and have long brunette hair with amber eyes.” He insists, Quentin snickers into his shoulder.

 

“Silly,” He murmurs, his thumb finding his mouth, waiting eagerly for the story.

 

God, Eliot had missed this.


End file.
